


Trøllabundin

by MidEvalLight1949



Category: American Horror Story, The Mummy, The Mummy (1999)
Genre: Blood, Death, F/M, Love, More tags to hopefully come, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidEvalLight1949/pseuds/MidEvalLight1949
Summary: Eavan Rosgrave is a part of the coven at the Robichaux Academy and an exceptional user of Transmutation . During a class on a simple protection spell, an unexpected and feared visitor arrives and wrecks havoc on her sisters and everything she holds close, forcing her to perform a piece of magic that she's only read about; throwing her into a time most have long forgottenSet during the middle of the first Mummy Movie.





	Trøllabundin

**Author's Note:**

> I had this Idea during my long vacation thanks to Hurricane Michael and was on a Lord of the Rings binge at the time but I couldn't get the juices flowing to continue with that idea. My nephew's new favorite movie is The Mummy; the mummy I grew up on and I forgot how much I loved that damn movie. So here we are, I think a time travel idea would work a bit better than a girl falling into ME so we're gonna give it a shot!

Today didn’t feel right. It was gorgeous, sunny and bright but the static in the air wasn’t how it was supposed to feel. It was heavy; like tar on the bottom of your feet that kept you still while the air choked you. Eavan sat at the pristine white table in the dining area of the Robichaux Academy, blindly listening to Queenie and Zoe speak of the days lesson, a protection spell of some sorts that required various items like nails and other tools that could be enchanted. The red hair of the witch fell over her shoulder as she looked down to the spiraled nails in her chalice, all rusted and very old before letting one rise from the silver cup, spin a few times then embed itself into the wood of the table.

Zoe sighed then cleared her throat. “An okay start, Eavan but the table isn’t where I meant for the nail to go.” A chime of giggles and whispers echoed amongst the seated witches, making Eavan’s head snatch up and mind become clear of the fog it was in.

“I’m sorry?”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?” She didn’t appear angry but the clip in her voice made Eavan sit up a bit straighter and clear her throat with a gentle cough. Tucking a red tendril behind her ear. “I’m sorry, Zoe. I got lost in thought for a moment.”

“I need you to be focused for this class, Eavan. Try and pay attention.” With that the red-haired girl nodded and did her best to focus on the blonde as she explained the process of the protection ritual but Eavan could feel her mind become like cotton and the voices around her become muffled.

That same feeling came back, it made her heart skip and her blood turn to ice. Something was coming, and she couldn’t put her finger on it but whatever it was, it was evil and so vile. Eavan sighed deeply and looked around to her several sisters as they sat, wonder and the upmost attention focused on Zoe as she demonstrated the spell. She tried to focus on the blonde witch, even tried focusing on Queenie as she stood stoically in the corner observing but Eavan felt the itch in her neck to turn it; to gaze toward the open hallway.

Voices becoming a dull ring Eavan turned her head to stare at the entryway just as a man clad in black slowly strutted into view. Red leather clasped hands interlaced at his abdomen, golden curls around his angelic head but the features of evil hatred upon his face. Her heart stopped, and her skin froze, Zoe’s speech dying upon seeing the intruder. Her sisters all frozen, the air chilled with a vile static as their panic began to grow, soon a woman appeared beside the young man and it was then Zoe threw her arms up.

Eavan jolted as the nails resting in her chalice and that of her sister’s all sharply raised above the table, the cloud of small iron pieces accelerated toward the intruders but with a small wave of his hand, the nails stopped before they could even graze against his flesh. Eavan stood from her chair, slowly at first but once the nails turned and flew toward her and her sisters, she covered her face and fell to the floor.

Blood splashed against her black clothing, splattered against her fingers that covered her eyes and the screams of her sisters rang sharply in her ears. Several girls fell to the floor with thuds around her and once she uncovered her eyes to face the horror, Eavan witnessed Zoe slam to her back; a gunshot she didn’t remember hearing to her left eye.

Shot after shot rang as several sisters attempted to the flee, none getting further than the table as the intruders advanced. Eavan crawled to the swinging door to the kitchen, barely missing being fallen on by Queenie as she took several gunshots to her front. Breath became harder to grasp, tears clouded her vision but upon seeing the booted feet advance to where she lay, Eavan shot to her feet and dashed through the door just as a bullet exploded the frame.

Her heart was about to explode, her chest felt like it was about to concave and the asthma she suffered from as a young girl felt like it was slowly creeping up on her as she darted around her terrified coven, all trying to find a place of sanctuary as the gunshots continued to ring throughout the mansion. Eavan didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where to go but away from the house all but screamed in her mind as she snatched the banister and sharply turned to her body for her feet to catch the steps.

Huffing and sobbing she raced up the staircase, slammed against her sisters that were desperately trying to escape.

“Cordelia!” She called as she reached the second floor of the west side of the house where she knew the supreme had her study and bedroom. Eavan darted through the door of the library; Cordelia not there before busting the large master bedroom door open to see no one occupied it. She needed her Supreme, she needed her protection and she was no where to be found.

Dread filled her gut as footsteps echoed on the polished wooden floors of the Eastern stair case making Eavan gently close the door and lock it as she backed away further into the large bedroom.

“What do I do?” she whispered repeatedly to herself. If that man was who she thought it was, her powers alone meant nothing against him. She wasn’t in the least bit strong enough to face him alone, her main power being transmutation she knew she couldn’t out run the devil himself forever. Tears gathered and fell once more down her crumpled features as she sucked in a sob filled breath.

She was going to die here. She didn’t want to die here.

Quickly snatching a bowl of some sorts from Cordelia’s bed side table and shattering a glass cup upon the bed post, Eavan drove the large shard into her palm then smeared the blood into spiraling circle upon the floor; the red stark against the light-colored wood. Once the spiral of blood was made Eavan snatched a small handful of hair from her own head, placing the blood-soaked bundle in the bowl inside the spiral.

She’s never done this sort of magic, she’s only ever read of it, but this paired with her transmutation ability, it should send her some place far enough away from this danger. She just needed to get away long enough to figure out what she needed to do next. Green eyes darting to the door upon seeing a shadow beneath it, Eavan swallowed a thick lump in her throat and the words fell from her lips like a chant.

_Accipe corpus meum. Servo animam meam. Tollat me!_

The words flowed from her tongue and the blood beneath her hands felt hot against her skin, but she continued to chant it, continued to force the words from lips as her body began to grow painfully weak. She didn’t have a destination planned in her mind, she forgot that part in her panic but wherever this magic could send her, she would be grateful.

Upon the fourth chant the door blasted open and there Michael stood with that woman behind him, a smile to his lips that made a stutter shake her lips and her concentration to falter. Michael strode closer to the red-haired witch that sat chanting upon the floor, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Miss Mead?” He called and the woman that stood behind him came forward and raised her arm toward Eavan, the witch seeing that it was an extension of her own body. Closing her eyes, Eavan continued to repeat the words, Miss Mead aimed and fired multiple rounds; the bullets striking the witch in several places along her front.

Eavan choked on her last word. Body falling loudly to the floor with crimson sputtering past her soaked lips, she watched as Michael walked to stand over her dying frame. Tears fell, mixing with the blood upon her face as a choked gasp left her throat.

As her eyes began to fall she croaked out just one last time.

_Accipe. . . corpus meum. . . S-servo animam meam. T-tollat me!_

Michael snapped away from the dying witch just as her body burst into flames, the crackling and moaning of the floor pushing him away; but as soon as they appeared the flames were gone.

And so was the red-haired witch.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Accipe corpus meum. Servo animam meam. Tollat me! = Take my body. Save my soul. Take me!


End file.
